Unexpected

“Wait!” I insist. “I want one more.”

Asher sighs again but doesn’t close out of the app. I turn my head and press my lips to his cheek. I can't see his reaction, because my eyes are closed, but can hear the smile on his face when he says, “Alright now, drunky-drunk.”

My phone dings before he can darken the screen. I look at him puzzled because I haven't texted anyone in hours. Liam is here, clearly not in the mood to text me, and Maggie is probably in bed asleep by now. “Who’s that?”

“Maggie.” Asher thumbs hover over the glass. Tap. Tap. Tapping.

“Why is she texting you? Me?” No. Not me, him. Maggie is texting Asher and I want to fight her and throw up at the same time. This has to be a side effect of the beer because I love Maggie. I shouldn’t be jealous of her right now, but I am. “You. Why is she texting you?”

Asher presses the side button, darkening my screen, then sets my phone facedown on the counter. The fact that I can’t see their conversation makes me irrationally mad. He has a phone. If he wants to fake-cheat on me, then he can do it from his own device. I cross my arms.

Asher slides his hands from my knees, up my thighs, and all that anger is lost in a haze of lust again. “I needed her to cover for us.”

I bite my lip, wanting Asher to say he’s taking me home for more than a sleepover. Nervous needles prick my skin and desire floods my brain again, sending waves of longing between my legs. I look into his eyes, those same eyes I’ve seen day in and day out for years, and wonder if he can tell how much I want him. I wonder if he feels the same pull that I do, right now, and I wonder if he’s drunk enough to break my over the clothes rule tonight. “Why?”

“Because you, love, are drunk and if your mom is anything like she used to be, she’ll kill both of us. So, I told her Maggie needed an emergency girl's night and asked Maggie to cover for you.”

I huff out my nose and roll my eyes. “My mom is never going to buy that.”

“She would, and she did, because I told your mom that Maggie and Russell broke up.” He reaches up and pushes a lock of hair that fell into my eyes behind my ear. “I may have also implied that Maggie is a mess, crying into a carton of strawberry ice cream. Your mom said to send Maggie her love.”

“How do you know these things?” I ask, thoroughly impressed. Asher stays out of people’s business. He’s popular in part because he’s hot as hell, but also because he has this mysterious thing going for him. The ice cream though, that’s Maggie’s favorite, and a detail Mom would have caught. Had he said something like vanilla or cookies and cream, she would have known I was lying.

“It’s pretty obvious.” Asher points to the living room where Russell sits in an oversized armchair. His face is crestfallen. “See that? He’s moping.”

I drag my gaze across the room to Russell again. He holds a red plastic cup in one hand and stares at his feet while Tabitha, a girl that’s in the marching band with Maggie, runs her mouth. She touches his arm and Russell meets her gaze. He shakes his head, then looks back at his feet.

“No, Russell isn’t,” I insist. “He’s avoiding that skank, Tabitha, who should know better than to make a move on what’s not hers.”

“And?”

“And she needs an ass kicking because Russell is off limits!” I scoot towards the edge of the counter but don’t get far.

Asher's hands settle on my hips. His fingers dip under the hem of my shirt, brushing against the skin of my stomach, and I forget what I’m supposed to be doing.

“And moping. Guys don’t ignore hot pussy unless they’re thinking about someone else.” He hitches his thumb over his shoulder. “Russell is thinking about Maggie.”

My smile falls. Images of Tabitha straddling Asher flicker in my mind. She dips her head and claims his lips, only breaking the kiss for him to pull her shirt over her head. I shudder and close my eyes. I don’t like it or the way they make me feel. When I open them again I ask, “You think Tabitha is hot?”

Asher laughs and the sound soothes my worries. There’s no malicious intent behind it, or snarkiness, just pure amusement at me acting like a fool. I’d be embarrassed if the fluttering in my stomach wasn’t overpowering every other emotion.

“All of that, and that’s what you take away?”

I shrug and look down at my lap. I grip the counter because I have nothing to do with my hands, then realize I’m staring at Asher’s zipper. Not on purpose, but he’s between my legs and I’ve legit been looking at it for a solid three seconds now. I dart my gaze up, unexpectedly meeting his. I suck in a breath then look past him, to Tabitha, who is still trying to coerce Russell into bed. I watch her, seriously considering the consequences of breaking into her house and shaving her head. I might not have to break in anywhere. If she gets someone in bed tonight, they should fall asleep and no one would know it was me. Just some evil party prank. I smirk. No one would like her then.

“Jealousy looks good on you.”

My gaze snaps back to Asher. Heat claims my neck and ears. “I’m not jealous.”

“Sure you’re not.” He chuckles

“Bite me.”

“Tell me when.” He smirks but silence falls between us again, only this time there’s a new type of tension. My lips tingle. I want him to kiss me and I want it to be real, with tongue and accidental hair pulling. I want to lose myself in his kiss because that’s what every girl says happens when you meet Asher Anderson’s lips.

“Ellie, I need… ”

I twist on the counter when someone walks by with a tray of tiny cups. I know Asher was about to say something serious, but it can wait. Tonight isn’t a night where we should be having heavy conversations. “What are those?”